San Luis ...what?

San Luis Obispo. Being from Texas and surrounded with lots of Spanish names, the San Luis part is easy enough...Saint Louis. Obispo was new, it means 'bishop'. San Luis Obispo de Tolosa, was a bishop in France that was honored with the name of the mission established by Father Junipero Serra in 1772. The mission, still functioning as a Catholic church today, was the fifth established in California.















The town was beautiful and we enjoyed walking along the river near the heart of the downtown area. The dogs apparently thought the bears and trout at this fountain were very realistic. Having never seen either one, I suppose this is possible for them!






Driving further to the north, we made our first trek on the infamous California 1 highway. We stopped to look around and have fish and chips at Morro Bay. Having forgotten my jacket, Craig purchased a souvenir fleece one so that I could stay outdoors long enough to see the sights. After the fish and chips, we spied these wise sea lions greeting a fishing boat to beg for handouts (which they received!).


As we looked out behind the restaurant we saw a huge rock outcrop out on a point at the opening of the bay. There was a road that would let us drive out to this point where we could see the waves of the Pacific crash against the rocks. As Linda walked over to the ocean side, she happened across a seal rescue in progress. She even had a chance to to hold the net and participate in saving a baby seal.


















Heading further north still, we passed the Hearst Castle far away on a hilltop. Having checked into admission prices, this was a tour we skipped due to our boys interests. We've heard from several sources that it's a memorable experience - maybe on another California journey.

A few miles further north on Highway 1 was a space to pull out to observe elephant seals. Thousands of them were lounging on the beach, some molting, others...well...resting from what we could tell. Huge male bulls were making terrible sounding calls from the water. It's not mating season, so we're left to speculate the reason for the fuss - surely a male territorial thing. The groups on the shore were segregated. The females all gathered in one part - mostly sleeping peacefully, occasionally climbing over each other for some more advantageous spot of sand, smacking sand on their backs with their flippers to stay cool from the sun (although the temperatures were plenty cool!) The young and old males gathered in another beach area and were much more active, picking spats with each other - particularly the younger ones. The older ones didn't really spat, but barrelled over one another and shoved the younger ones out of their way before flopping down to lounge and smack sand on their backs...until another young whipper snapper dared to get too close.



We drove back over the mountains on a different highway that revealed acres and acres of vineyards and wineries. Beautiful in their crisp lines of vines, we saw sign after sign that invited guests to sample, followed immediately by a highway advisory sign to 'Don't drink and drive'? Between the winding roads and the beautiful sights, we suggest wine tasting by some form of shuttle bus tour!